Best Detective Novels & Stories

In March 2020, after another lack of breakthroughs in the investigation, the 'Mad Dog' case was transferred to a pair of young detectives from Criminal Investigation Department of the South Wales Police police in Cardiff, Esther Moore and Leopold Evans, who formed the so-called 'Amazing Duo'. Due to their young age and rather short work experience, at least compared to their older colleagues, they did not get the case right away. However, when it turned out that none of the senior detectives was able to move the case forward, the investigation was handed over to them. The Chief had high hopes for Esther and Leo, as he had always been pleased with the results of their work. However, the 'Mad

“Okay Sir, follow me, let me take you to the west block, there you will find him. I have to say this though, I am a big fan of your work; I went through every detail of how you had captured so many notorious criminals and all I can do whenever I take them to read is to marvel at the kind of human you are, sir. On a personal note sir, how are you doing it” “Simply by observing young men, do that and you can be like me or even more than me; so are we there?”Asked the detective when the man stopped at the door tagged Fragile which indicated something important was in that room. The man knocked on the door and it opened and they entered. All eyes were on the detective who didn’t mind their star

“Tch! he's sleeping again. Hey wake up! hey, Eros, wake up.” At first, i thought he was just a like fool-lazy police man. However, i didn't think he was as good as the detective i met. “Then do you have any idea who the suspect is?” I asked him when there was a commotion in Sir. Rohan's house. I thought he had nothing to answer me and that's all he was but... “There is.” His answer. And i suddenly realized that he's something and a very genius detective. *** “Hey, you, how do you make sure he's the one who did that?”

he brisked followed the direction of her hand. The first training as a detective was to watch out, in every crime scene, the criminal would always return to scout the scene. It was the basics of his idea. The criminal undercover. He believed the reason he stood out amongst his colleagues was his unique ability to kill and he was always the first to reappear on his crime scenes, taking indebt analysis. He always had the headstart to clear every evidence if he had slipped on any.

Something more than just paranoia and late-night shadows tailing me. I sat hunched over my laptop in a dingy little café two blocks from my apartment, the place reeking of burnt espresso and desperation. I typed in “Detective Bryan, Narcotics Division, city PD” and hit search. A few articles came up. He was decorated, involved in several high-profile raids. One article had a photo, square jaw, stern face, early forties. Not someone you’d expect to pick up a burner phone in a gas station bathroom. But I was desperate, and he was my only real lead.

Trying to act as the husband of the deceased, who's still grieving. “Let them in,” I muttered. My voice was calm like a still water. The lead detective introduced himself—Detective Hart, Internal Investigations. Cold eyes. Firm grip. The kind of man who’d spend hours watching without saying a word, just to see what you’d reveal. “We’ve received a tip pointing us toward a new suspect,” he finally said, his hard gaze fixed on me. “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” he continued. “Of course,” I replied. “Anything I can do to help,” I said as I clasped my hands together.

Just sat there, as still as a statue, until the corner of his mouth twitched—and curled upward, slow and smug. I hated that I could recognize the difference between his “this will be useful” smile and his “this will be fun” smile. This one was both. He looked like a shark who smelled blood. “How long has he been awake?” “I don’t know. A day maybe. I called the hospital pretending to be Florence.” That part didn’t surprise him. His face turned thoughtful. “My detectives are good—some of the best—but there are things even they can’t uncover. Details. Motives. The kind of answers only Aliston Hart would have.”

He bowed slightly and left. The inspector general heaved a sigh. He hated to see his officers so clueless. But something was strange; Bob had seemed unbothered. All his years in the bureau, Inspector Akhere has seen many smart and creative detectives but he has seen none like Bob Andrews. Smart, creative, fast, and alert, Bob had built a name for himself as the Detective of Detectives. He used the brains of other detectives and he gets positive results. At first, the inspector felt he was just another control freak, but after a close study of the man he finally understood him.

I responded immediately. He laughed at that, but then took on a serious pensive look. That rattled me a bit. Gboyega was never pensive, he was always smiling and carefree. "You need a detective and I know just the one. He's very good at his job too. Very discreet. He's like a blood hound. He'll dig up all the dirt on anyone, even details that have been hidden in the past." I looked at him, understanding hit me at his words. I knew exactly what he was talking about. He probably used him to get dirt about people he did business with.

As always, his name was splashed across the headlines in bold letters. “FBI’s Golden Detective Cracks Another Case: Charles Gregory Stays One Step Ahead of Crime” I recall skimming through the article, already knowing what it will say: "Gregory’s instincts and exceptional dedication have once again led to a major breakthrough in a case that baffled authorities for months. Insiders at the Bureau describe him as a force to be reckoned with, a man who sees what others don’t. His latest victory is evidence of his unmatched brilliance.” I remember tossing the paper aside and leaning back, laughing. Unmatched brilliance? Sure.